


Asushunamir, A Shadowrun Hong Kong Story

by cbrachyrhynchos



Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong
Genre: Catfishing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Neo-Paganism, Nonbinary Character, Pedophilia, Prison, Sex Work, Shamanism, Short One Shot, Transgender, Underage Drinking, transfeminine character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbrachyrhynchos/pseuds/cbrachyrhynchos
Summary: Seattle's shamanic myth helped them survive years in a corporate prison, but it drives a wedge between Seattle and their brother, Duncan.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Asushunamir, A Shadowrun Hong Kong Story

**Author's Note:**

> Criminal activities by underage characters including drug abuse, violence, and sex work are mentioned by multiple characters within the game. The author does not endorse or condone drug use or sex work by minors.

The warehouse burned behind Seattle. Destroying the weapons would buy the Hong Kong underworld time, maybe a few months before Ares moved in. Would it be enough? They turned to see their brother, Duncan, standing next to Inspector Qui. The tension in the jaw warned Seattle that he was just about to explode. They would need to be careful to keep him on their side.

Seattle’s PDA rang, “Yes Auntie Cheng?”

“Good job. You’ve come a long way since I first pulled you and your brother out of that little mess brought to me.”

“Of course Auntie.” Seattle knew better than to point out to the crime boss that their father had been kidnapped and police mobilized against them while Seattle was still on the plane out of San Francisco.

“I just have one small additional favor, a little bonus on top of your usual payoff.”

“How can I help?”

“No living witnesses.”

Seattle looked up to see Duncan’s rifle aimed at their chest. “I’ll call you back.”

–

William Black hung out at Darla’s house after school, not for the reasons anyone assumed, especially not for the reasons that they told Raymond. Billie looked in the mirror at Dar, wearing Billie’s school uniform, white button-down shirt, tie, jacket, and tan pants. “Um, your packer is a bit too conspicuous,” Billie said.

“Creeper Jimmy is a chaser, it’s not like he’s going to care if I pass,” Dar turned away and adjusted anyway.

“But you care, and that’s enough.”

Billie checked their own presentation in the mirror. Dar’s school skirt was a bit more forgiving than pants. “Are you sure Creeper Jimmy goes for ladyboys?”

“Ugh, yes. He sends me pics, links about what he wants. Are you sure you want to go through with this Billie?”

“I’m not going to actually have sex with him,” Billie said. “Duncan, Calico, and I ran this scam a dozen times. A few indiscreet pictures and I make an excuse to get out. You got the intel off your mom’s account. Some anonymous emails up the management chain and Jimmy’s out of a job.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Dar,” Billie said. “Creeper Jimmy is hurting you, I can’t stand that.”

“If he gets nasty, you’ll use the panic button, right?”

“I can’t afford the fine for using your panic button.” Dar’s mom was up-and-rising corp management. The button came with a family protection contract, that unfortunately didn’t cover protection from stalkers higher up in the management food chain.

“Better than being killed.”

“We should go,” Billie said.

Dar had taken care of the house cameras so they could dress up and get out of the house unnoticed for the occasional club outing. Dar’s mom was generally cool, if cautious about Dar’s school records. Raymond had steretoypes about gender presentation and Billie’s old life in the Barrens, so Billie did their best to pass at school and kept their other clothes in Dar’s closet.

The pair took a short bus ride to the meetup. Creeper Jimmy picked a self-service automat with no regular front-end staff for the “date.” “Hey Darla, who’s your friend?” Creeper Jimmy used the same tone that guidance counselors and pushers used to ingratiate themselves with teens. He was six feet of pale elf in an off-the-rack synthetic salaryman suit. To Billie, he felt like hunger, guilt, and shame, but not anger.

Billie felt Dar getting cold feet. “I’m Sal.” Billie let the Barrens accent that Raymond had tried to drill out of them back into their speech. Jimmy’s eyes lit up when Billie let their voice crack just a bit. This was almost too easy. Billie slipped into the side of the booth next to Jimmy the Creep. He moved over just enough for Billie to sit down, not enough to avoid contact.

Dar took opposite seat. Billie knew that Dar was filming this through his ocular implant as insurance. “Are you girls hungry?” Jimmy laughed at Billie and Dar’s reflexive flinch.

“You buying?”

Jimmy reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit stick. “Passcode 1234, get me a beer.”

“Hey, if you’re buying get me one too,” Billie said. Dar rolled his eyes and took the credit stick. “Dar showed me some of your texts.” They turned to look at Jimmy as he stiffed with alarm. “You say you wanna party? I’d like to party. School boys, well, they’re boys.”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Jimmy said.

Dar returned with two beers, a spring water, and a cold shoulder. He was about to blow it, so time for Billie to let him off the hook. “Oh, don’t be that way Dar, you know I’m a free spirit.”

“I thought I was cool with this, but..”

“I’m not your girl, Dar.” The jealousy angle would give Jimmy an alternate explanation for Dar’s discomfort.

“I never thought you were.” Dar didn’t touch the bottle of water. “I’m not comfortable watching this.”

“Maybe you should get some air.”

“I can take a bus home.”

“I’ll text you later.”

“You be sure to do that.”

Billie drank just enough to scent their breath, and put the bottle down on the table. “Are you leaving or not?”

“Yeah, I’m gone.” Dar left the bottle on the table and walked out of the automat.

“So, Jimmy who likes to party. Talk to me.”

Jimmy did, it wasn’t of much importance.

–

“Duncan.” Seattle kept eyes on the barrel of their brother’s rifle. Was it loaded? Of course it was loaded. But was the bean-bag round loaded? “You heard Auntie.”

“I can’t believe you’re considering this,” Duncan said. “Qui is offering to give us our SINs back. We can work real jobs. Get a real paycheck.”

“I can’t Duncan.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” The tip of the barrel wavered, a bad sign.

–

The hotel was just around the corner from the automat. Billie caught Dar shadowing them from across the street. The hotel was also self-service. Creeper Jimmy swiped his credit stick three times. Once to get in the lobby, again to get the room number and unlock code, and a third time to unlock the door. Jimmy drank three beers in the automat, and was weaving just a bit as he entered the cheap room.

Billie made a show of clapping and squealing. The purse with a fish-eye lens went on a counter, and a gentle squeeze started the camera capturing footage. The hotel room had big mirrored doors on the closets and bathroom, and Billie made sure to capture those doors.

“Um, you mind if I take pics?” Creeper Jimmy was making this too easy. Dar had compromised his PDA with one of his mom’s security codes.

“Only if you send me copies,” Billie said. They took position in front of one of the mirrors and started fake dancing to some imaginary song. Creeper Jimmy obligingly took a position that got his image in the mirror and onto both cameras.

Billie had the sweater off and was working the second button of their blouse when Knight Errant broke in the door and tossed in a flash-bang.

–

Seattle tried running through a replay of the mission, but couldn’t catch any of it. Trauma brain will do that sometimes. Especially when staring down the barrel of Duncan’s rifle.

“I can’t go back to being William. To having a permanent record of my name, my past.”

“You can change it,” Duncan said.

“Those records will still be there, for anyone who wants to scratch under the surface. Having a SIN means having one’s entire life available if someone throws enough money at the problem. Mrs. Cheng did me a favor by burning my records.”

–

Billie sat in one of the two cheap hotel chairs, hands and ankles bound together. Creeper Jimmy sat in the other chair. “Do you know who I am?” Creeper Jimmy said. “I can pay you to just walk away.” He was no longer hungry and desperate. Now he was angry, but confident. But he deflated when the Knight Errant team stepped aside. A tall elven woman and an orc man stepped into the small room. They wore the kind of bespoke clothing Billie had only seen in vids. The elven woman looked of big money that Billie was taught to avoid because it came with trouble like the orc. The orc wore a suit almost as expensive as the woman. He made Billie’s nose itch, and took his time looking Billie over. This was a very bad sign.

“Aunt Seline,” Jimmy started blubbering. “Look, this is the last time, I swear.”

“You said that the last time, Jimmy.”

“No more, no more, I’ll stop.”

“Jimmy, you know how much this extraction is costing the company?” The woman spoke with cold appraisal.

“I’m sorry.”

“We’re paying 20,000 nuyen to get you out of this very embarrassing situation. That is %87 percent of the profit your employee, Janet Gomez, brought in this year.” Billie flinched at the mention of Dar’s mother. “Janet Gomez, the woman whose daughter you’ve been harassing for months. Janet Gomez offered her resignation yesterday. It got flagged to my desk because she bypassed you. I might send her a video of you with snot on your lip by way of apology. Blood aside, she’s more valuable than getting you out of this mess you’ve made.”

“I won’t do it again, I swear. It’s all her fault, they came on to me. I was just taking pics.”

The orc coughed, and tapped the woman on the shoulder. Billie figured that he was one of maybe a half dozen people who could get away with that without being hog-tied or shot, or both. He gestured toward Billie.

“Shut him up.”

Billie shrieked involuntarily and closed their eyes. They heard the loud buzzing of a taser, and a scream that cut off to a low moan. When they opened their eyes Creeper Jimmy was being hauled away. Billie threw up.

Aunt Seline lifted Billie’s face. “This is unexpected. You’re not Janet Gomez’s daughter.”

“Ain’t you worried about getting sick on your clothes?”

“I’ve handled worse.” This was an even worse sign. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sal, one of Frank’s girls.”

One of the Knight Errant mercs coughed. “Facial recognition flags William Black, SIN 555-6738-1032-53M. Adopted son of Raymond Black. Childhood record redacted by court order.”

“William, wait here while we decide what to do with you.”

“Billie, please,” they said as the two expensive suits left the room.

When they came back with a hood, Billie started screaming.

–

“For fuck’s sake. You don’t have to have your old life back,” Duncan said. “I’m not going back to the Barrens. You can apply for a new number and a new name.”

“You can, I can’t. It’s not just about the data,” Seattle said.

“You’re going to start spouting some shamanic shit at me.”

“Something like that.”

–

Billie woke up with a start in the back of a tactical van. The orc in the suit sat across from them. “My apologies,” he said. “We had to sedate you.”

“I’m not dead,” Billie said.

“No, you’re not.”

“Are you going to introduce yourself?”

“Charles.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Billie took stock of where they were. More comfortably immobilized. No windows. A dim light for them both. No view of the front of the van.

“That hotel room would have been the perfect place to get rid of me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Charles sat contemplating that question. “There are a number of reasons why we’re not going to kill you. Since you won’t let us enjoy the ride in silence, I might as well entertain you with some of the moral calculus that comes with corporate security on my level.”

“First, our contract with Knight Errant specified the extraction of Creeper James, as you called him in messages we cracked overnight. It also specified the successful extraction of Miss Gomez.”

“Mr. Gomez, or Dar.”

“Of Janet Gomez’s child. Knight Errant has clauses when it comes to protection of minors as part of operations.”

“You could have asked them to leave the room,” Billie suggested, curious.

“We would have had two K.E. employees responsible for securing you, three monitoring communications off-site, and a facial recognition trace through their private internet. We lost the element of plausible deniability when we hired them. If your body was found, Knight Errant will gladly throw us under the bus to maintain the integrity of their contractual ethics.”

“Ok, I’ve been saved by witnesses and contracts.”

“Second, if all things were equal I would have James eliminated, thus rendering moot any claims that the Gomez family or you would make against him. However, James, by virtue of a complex web of family relationships and contracts, is expensive to get rid of. Should he act out again, you may prove a useful form of leverage against him. We are keeping you around because you might be useful, but unfortunately his loose tongue back there makes you a security risk. Had he been able to keep is mouth shut about previous incidents, we would have sent you home with little more than an acute case of embarrassment.”

Billie stared at their knees, seething in frustration.

“What are you going to tell Dar, or Raymond?”

“I’m sorry William.”

“If you’re going to kidnap me at least call me Billie.”

“Billie.” Charles took a deep breath. “Janet Gomez will be promoted into Creeper James’s position. The official explanation is that he left for health reasons. He will be wired for surveillance, and I’ll make sure he never gets a private moment alone with a minor again. Janet and … Dar will be briefed on his absence, and told not to ask questions about you. Dar will get generous college and employment options with the company, should he choose.”

“And Raymond?”

“We can’t tell him anything.”

“You fucking bastard!” Billie screamed and yelled at Charles until their voice failed. “He’ll think I went back to living on the streets! He’ll think I was just running a con for a safe place to live.” Billie screamed until their throat hurt, and then fell back in the seat, sobbing.

Charles’s hands on their face were calloused but gentle. “Hold on a minute, here,” he said. He reached into the overnight bag next to him and opened a packet of baby wipes. He cleaned Billie’s face and hands with a kind and practiced touch. “You hurt yourself,” he said. He held his hand over Billie’s throat, and Billie felt healing magic soothe the soreness.

“There is one more thing, Billie.” Charles said. “Have you been _chosen_? Are you serving anyone, anything?” Charles looked into Billie’s eyes, searching for something.

Billie thought over the question, and closed their eyes against Charles’s examination. “I did it to protect Dar.”

Charles’s face fell, and he sat back in his own seat. The baby wipe fell onto the floor. “Bear wants you alive. She can be quite persuasive when she wants to be.” He didn’t say anything for the rest of the trip.

–

“Duncan, if I go back under the system, I’ll go toxic. Or I’ll end up going back in the shadows anyway. It’s their myth Duncan, it’s my myth.”

“Bullshit, you know that’s just stories around the magic. You have this whole Robin Hood outlaw thing going on,” Duncan said.

“Brother, ‘The drink of the sewer shall be your drink. In the shadows shall you abide.’” Seattle said. "Listen, remember how I told you about Inanna. I’ve not been fully honest. I serve Inanna but she’s not my mentor. Please Duncan, listen.

"It’s not Inanna, it’s Asushunamir. Asushunamir clothed in stars, male and female, companion of Inanna. Asushunamir cursed by Ereshkigal.

“I can’t live with a person who puts people like me in prison,” Seattle said. I can’t live with a cop. You can’t continue to make exceptions for me."

Seattle reached for the last spirit fetish at their belt. Duncan’s aim steadied.

–

The facility had two guards for every prisoner, and only a half-dozen prisoners. Billie was fitted with an explosive security anklet, and told not to venture beyond the perimeter. They were given orange coveralls with a printed name on them, a cell with cameras behind unbreakable plastic, and a tour of the facility. Prisoners prepped their own meals. During the day, most were given supervised cyberspace, in an air-gapped island network, to work odd jobs, or take classes. It was all very humane, almost comfortable compared to living in a squat.

The prisoners all sat for breakfast at one long table. “What are you in for?” Billie asked.

The troll opposite Billie shushed them, spraying spittle halfway across the table. Many at the table looked to an older human man at the end.

“Kid, we’re here, for what’s in _here_.” He pointed to his balding scalp. “This place isn’t warehousing people, it’s warehousing corporate intel until it expires. When the cost of warehousing us is greater than the intel, then we’re released. Therefore, we don’t talk it.”

“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you,” the troll said. Billie was the only one who laughed. “That wasn’t a joke.”

“She’s right,” the older man said. “I’m Gideon, the woman opposite you is Betty.” They went around the table sharing names. Only some of them matched the name on the overalls.

The staff treated Billie like a kid. Instead of work, Billie got school. But they never gave Billie anything useful or technical, just literature, algebra, history, Sixth World religions. The days followed a strict routine, even stricter than Raymond’s house. Cyberspace was an air-gapped island with filtered week-old news delivered by memory stick and no communication out. The facility sat in the mountains, and winter lasted forever.

Billie became friendly with three of the inmates. Betty didn’t warm to Billie, and didn’t want to talk to a kid. She played chess with Billie enough times to beat them soundly, and then she ignored Billie for the most part. Spring came and Billie felt bored, raw, and angry.

Then Betty died and Billie’s life went further to hell. Her spirit roamed, silent, unseen except for Billie. They whispered to Gideon, “I think she’s haunting us.”

“I know that death is hard for people your age,” he said.

“No, I _see_ her,” Billie said.

“Keep it down, the regular shaman got called down.”

At this point, Betty was looming over Billie. “She never got a chance to get out, we’re never going to get out of here.”

“Just, calm down Billie, take a deep breath.” But Billie’s panic grew and something stepped into Betty’s shadow. Something tangible, meaty, and angry. It was the guards turn to panic. Gideon grabbed Billie by the overalls and punched them until they passed out.

–

“Seattle,” Duncan said. “Sometimes you can be so full of shit. Who the fuck has heard about Ass-susy-man-ear?”

“Queer kid in prison for seducing an asshole? Connect the dots.”

–

Solitary was hell, because the last thing Billie needed was more time alone with their thoughts.

They were not totally alone, at least two people had died in the cell. They spent time having one-sided conversations with the thin spirits. The next day, a company shaman came in to evaluate Billie. She asked a bunch of questions that Billie didn’t answer.

Then she sat down and talked at Billie instead, a long story about how she awakened while running an ultramarathon. How Eagle had picked her off the trail and showed her the world, and the world behind the world.

“Is Eagle going to show me how to get the fuck out of this prison?”

She left after that, and talked to the facility director just outside of the door about how solitary would serve as a vigil, but Billie needed a teacher.

Billie couldn’t count the days until the next visitor. They slept, they ate, they used the toilet. They washed with the baby wipes passed under the door once a day. Billie woke up with a familiar presence sitting on their bed. “Duncan? Dar? Raymond?” The figure wore robes like a toga, or a Christian religious painting. Bright golden stars covered the dark blue mantle.

“Not quite, I’m a spirit. I’m your spirit. Or rather, fate has led us to each other,” the figure said.

“Are you going to get me out of here?”

“No, that’s not my story.”

“Then what the fuck is your story?”

“I was created male and female. I went into the underworld to seduce its warden and rescue our queen. I tricked the warden and saved the queen.”

“And you lived happily ever after.”

“No, the warden cursed me to live in the shadows and be rejected by my family.”

“Fuck,” Billie cried and paced the narrow space of the cell. “I get a fucking mentor spirit and it’s the lamest, most useless of them all. If you can’t help me get out of here, what good are you?”

The spirit was not at all offended by this. “Our queen said, ‘If you remember me, how you were born from the light of the stars to save me, and through me the earth, from darkness and death, then I shall harbor you and your kind. You shall be my favored children, and I shall make you my priestesses.’” the spirit said.

“I’m not here to get you out of here, I’m here to help you survive this.”

–

“Duncan listen,” Seattle said. “Asushunamir was left behind and cursed to live in the shadows so that Inanna could walk free.”

“I can’t live like this,” Duncan said.

“Then take the shot. You want to live free, take the shot and run off with Qui.”

“You asshole…”

“TAKE THE SHOT DUNCAN.”

The beanbag round hit Seattle square in the chest. They fell back taking a hard hit to the back of the head.

“I don’t have to put up with your fucking martyr complex Billie!” The rifle came up pointing right at Gaichu, stopping the samurai before he could rush Duncan. “I’m all out of beanbag rounds. We are _leaving._ Anyone have a problem with that?”

–

Billie’s next six weeks in prison involved intensive therapy with a Shaman-Psychiatrist. After an initiation from a priestess of Ishtar, who was deemed close enough, the therapy scaled back to weekly sessions. They dove into the education program: history, religious studies, literature. The staff changed to include an awakened guard every shift, and Billie had to wear a charmed suppression bracelet along with the security anklet.

In spite of this, Billie survived. Inmates were shuffled in. Some were shuffled out. A few died. But Billie survived.

Billie was only moderately surprised when they were led to the interview room, and Charles was waiting on the other side of the table.

“I take it that what’s in _here_ finally expired?” Billie pointed to their head.

Charles smiled at that. “I am obliged to inform you that Mr. James has passed on.”

“I know better than to ask for details.”

Charles pushed the thick folder on the table to Billie. “Here are the conditions of your release.”

“Can you summarize for me?”

“If you discuss any of this with anyone of consequence, you will be sued for corporate slander and sued for breach of contract. You will receive payment for the work you’ve done for us here at the facility, it should be enough for you to find housing until you find employment.”

“What else?” Billie leafed through the pages of legalese.

“There is a separate no-contact agreement with the Gomez family.”

“Is Dar well?”

Charles leaned back in his chair. “I will only say that video of Mr. James blubbering with snot on his nose was entertaining for some persons.”

“I understand.” Billie went back through and scanned the documents, signing when asked and dotting each ‘i’ with a little star.

“I see you have been chosen,” Charles said.

“Blessings from Inanna, Queen of Heaven,” Billie said. “And Asushunamir, Clothed in Stars.”

“Bear protect you Billie Black.”

–

Seattle sat at the terminal, working on the tenth draft of an email to Duncan. The words of explanation or apology didn’t come. Broken ribs, a mild skull fracture, and a concussion didn’t save Seattle from a phone call with Kindly Cheng though. Seattle put it on speaker to save their ears. “I said no witnesses,” Auntie Cheng said.

“We were outnumbered and out of cover, it would have been a massacre. You know how expensive it is to recruit help.”

Seattle let call sit in dead air, until Cheng decided what to do. “Your brother, your decision, I’ll take it out of your bonus. Getting rid of that inspector was merely a ‘nice to have’ on my part.”

“It is as you say, Auntie.”

“Are you going to have trouble with Gunshow?”

Seattle sighed and closed their eyes, “Duncan will gladly become one of those assholes with an expensive suit, an ear piece, and someone else to give the orders. I gave him what he wanted. He’s not going to get his nose dirty with our business.”

“You have a funny way of giving people what they want, Seattle. Don’t expect to get invited to any birthday parties.”

“Thank you Auntie.”

Seattle sat back in their chair, taking a deep breath to calm the nausea from their concussion.

“Auntie has a point,” Gobbet said. “‘Go on, Duncan. Have a nice life, Duncan.’ Half of us would back you, the rest wouldn’t care enough to fight him going.”

“Duncan’s a cop. He wants to put people in prison. Asushunamir isn’t comfortable with that. We’ve been arguing over it for weeks, I guess we needed to burn the bridge.”

“Yeah, that’s why I try to stay away from you mythics. Yama Kings, Sumerian Queens, it’s all so complicated. Rat just likes to find things and engage in a good cuddle. But, if you want to burn family relationships with a grenade, that’s your trouble.”

“Thanks, Gobbet. Throw an extra pack of noodles in the pot for me? Please?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m glad he didn’t hit you too hard, Seattle. I like having you around.”

Seattle saved the message into their drafts folder. It could wait for another time.


End file.
